Every Intergalactic Princess Needs a Tiara
by jnharrow
Summary: Written for Dee's Tiara Challenge at Perfectly Plum


_I don't own JE's characters and I'm not making any money from this story._

_Week 21 - Dee's Tiara Challenge _

_Use one or both of the following prompts: (1) What you really need to go with that is a tiara. (2) Everyone was getting crazy excited about the prom or dance. Everyone, that is, except me._

**Every Intergalactic Princess Needs a Tiara**

**by jnharrow**

Everyone was getting crazy excited about this Halloween dance. Everyone, that is, except me. Well, and Ranger. I don't think I've ever seen Ranger crazy excited about anything. He's always the same. Calm. Unfazed by anything.

Unless you count our night together. I still don't know if I'd choose crazy to describe him, but excited…yeah.

It was ten minutes before Lula was supposed to pick me up from my parents' house and I still wasn't sure I was going. I knew there was the possibility she might come in and drag me out though, so probably not going wasn't an option.

I stared into the bathroom mirror and met my own hopeless eyes. Maybe another coat of mascara. Yeah. That'll fix it. All better.

I applied the mascara.

Nope.

It's for charity. I reminded myself.

The dance was to benefit the Trenton Police Department and the Chief's wife had decided that unlike the other fundraising events, this one would be family friendly. She made it a costume ball, starting much earlier in the evening so the kids could go and enjoy themselves too. I'd heard from Eddie that there would be a whole bunch of activities geared towards the kids. That was right before he suckered me into volunteering to supervise the pumpkin decorating contest. Immediately after I'd agreed, I had a vision of pumpkin guts splattered all over me from head to toe. Why did I have this sinking feeling that there was a new bet running and I'd just been set up?

My costume was cool. It also had the advantage that most of it would stand up to the pumpkin guts pretty well. Probably I could just wipe them off. I'd decided to live the dream and show up as one of my childhood fantasies. Intergalactic princess…that's me!

Lula, Grandma Mazur and Mary Alice accompanied me on the trip to concoct my ideal butt-kicking, space chick outfit.

Lula held up a hanger with a miniscule, neon green, stretchy dress. "What d'you think of this? Does it scream sexy alien?" Mooner had offered the suggestion during a break in the Trek marathon we'd watched with him the other day. "Would Kirk go for me in this?" She pursed her lips, studying it seriously. "Forget Kirk. Tank'll be there, right? Would Tank go for this?"

I didn't know Tank's preference in alien-wear, so I shrugged noncommittally. "Try it on?"

Lula disappeared behind a curtain just as Mary Alice trotted up to me gleefully with a packaged horse costume in hand. There'd been little doubt what her choice would be. "Got mine. I'll help you now, Aunt Steph."

Lula emerged and we decided that with a green wig and the proper footwear and accessories, the dress was a go.

Then the curtains behind her flew open and revealed Grandma Mazur in all her glory. Well, darn near all her glory. Lula's jaw dropped.

"Well? Whaddya think?" Grandma asked. "Will I catch myself a hottie with a nice package in this?"

Nudging Mary Alice towards Lula, I rushed in and hastily drew the curtains shut. "Probably that'll be a little too chilly, Grandma. It's October. You wouldn't want to get a cold and not be able to date the hottie once you catch him."

"Oh yeah, you're right. I didn't think of that," Grandma said, pouting into the mirror and striking a pose. "Probably those fifties pinups posed indoors."

"Uh huh." I slipped out the curtain again. "Let me get you some other things to try."

"Nothing stodgy! Gotta have some sex appeal."

"Right."

The gold, swingy, beaded flapper dress she ended up with actually looked pretty good on her. Her soup chicken body was thin enough that nothing interfered with the hang of the fabric. She was happy, so I was happy.

I was the only one left, so everyone helped me, giving opinions and suggesting various pieces.

When we were done, I had a shiny silver, skintight halter and matching miniskirt out of some super-synthetic, everything-repellant fabric and some truly out of this world boots that Lula had found. Silver and fitted, they clung to my legs and zipped up to my thighs.

Silver jewelry topped it off. A three-inch plain armband encircled each bicep and I'd lucked out and found these funky mesh cuff bracelets that extended up my wrists. I'm not sure what they were supposed to protect me against, but they looked neat, like armor. I was going for warrior intergalactic princess. Space Xena.

Now, hours later, after a trip to the salon with the girls, my nails sported a lurid purple color that Mary Alice and Grandma had decided looked very space princess-y and my hair had been artfully piled on top of my head with a few strategically dangling curls.

So I should look hot and all set to go, right?

Not exactly.

You know how artists are always told that they should paint until a piece is finished and then stop? That's because one extra brushstroke, just one minor addition, holds the possibility of trashing the whole masterpiece.

"What you really need to go with that is a tiara," Grandma Mazur said before we left the store, cocking her head to the side and studying me.

"Yeah!" Mary Alice cried. "Every princess needs a tiara!"

I looked in the store mirror. I kinda thought it looked ok as it was. I'd already talked Grandma and Mary Alice out of ironing on the initials for Stephanie Plum, Intergalactic Princess. It was a near thing, since Grandma thought SPIP was catchy.

"You go on ahead to the salon, dear," Grandma said, patting my shoulder. "Mary Alice and I will handle it."

As I was almost late for my appointment, I smiled, thanked them and went to change.

There should have been ominous music.

Really.

Now I stared at the fruits of their labor, perched atop my head. I was doomed. There was no way I could get out of wearing it. Grandma and Mary Alice would get their feelings hurt. I had to wear it. So I was. But not excited…was an understatement.

It was a foot and a half high and sported dangling glitter-covered Styrofoam planets. Little grey plastic aliens and spaceships danced among them. Myriad fiber optic stars winked at me, nicely complimented by the dark blue velvet background. The battery pack tucked neatly behind it and the whole mess was firmly spiked into my head with long hairpins.

"Be embarrassing if it falls off while you're dancing or doing some other strenuous activity." Grandma had winked at me as she speared another pin into my head. "This sucker isn't going anywhere," she announced triumphantly.

Why me? Personally, I thought we'd gone beyond tiara and into Vegas Showgirl headdress territory.

I still didn't know how they'd managed to construct it in such a short amount of time. Apparently, as my proud grandmother was pleased to share, Mary Alice had found the fiber optics part and the original frame for the thing, my mother had stitched the background on the frame, and all of them had busily glued and glittered planets and stuck on aliens and spaceships.

It was a labor of love.

I sighed and brought my hand to my forehead where a headache was rapidly developing. The planets bobbed merrily.

I had to ride crouched behind the passenger seat of Lula's car. My head wouldn't fit any other way.

Joe burst into hysterics when he saw me. There was pointing. And incoherent mumbling between guffaws. His reaction was not atypical, as I found throughout the night.

His new girlfriend was dressed as a sexy little devil. Unoriginal bitch.

Hey, I was cranky. I'm allowed.

Much to the dismay of bookmakers and bettors alike, the pumpkin decorating was violence free in the form of markers and glued on bits. Someone sane had decided against an army of small knife-wielding children. Thank GOD.

I handed the blue ribbon and (better received) small plastic pumpkin filled with candy to the deserving winner. It takes artistic skill to convey spilled brains and gore through felt and tissue paper. The dangling from a string pom pom eyeball was a brilliant touch, I felt.

Freed of my responsibilities, I scratched irritably at an errant hairpin that was poking me and made my way to the bar. Once I had my sorely needed drink in hand, I slouched against a wall in one of the darker areas of the ballroom to observe the party for awhile.

Across the room, I spotted a leopard skin clad Tarzan Tank and a radiant Lula dancing together. Guess Tank does have Captain Kirk taste after all. Good for Lula.

Eddie waved at me. Guess he hadn't seen me yet, since he pointed a finger at his head, laughing. I rolled my eyes at him. Then I stared down at the bubbles in the remainder of my rum and coke. Fizzy.

"Babe."

Now my night was complete. "Ranger." I took a long last swig from my drink, set it down on the tray next to me and continued my people watching. Until my view was blocked.

"Original." I commented dryly. God he was hot tonight, crummy costume or not. He wore a gorgeous, obviously tailored, black suit, a white shirt, black bow tie, and onyx cufflinks and shirt studs. He'd recently cut his hair for a job and the ends just brushed his collar. Huh. Who knew it had some wave in it when it wasn't long. I resisted the urge to touch it. Yum. Formal Ranger.

"Bond, Babe."

I eyed his watch with interest. "Does it shoot laser beams or something?" It could. You never know with Ranger.

He laughed. "Maybe. That's top secret."

"Is the martini a prop?" I rarely saw Ranger drink.

He nodded, so I relieved him of it and tossed it down.

"Bad night?"

I gave him a dirty look and it was met with a smile. He reached a finger out and poked one of my planets.

"Mary Alice and Grandma." I didn't feel like explaining. That's all he gets, I thought.

I set the martini glass down. Good, he was moving now. I could see stuff again.

He moved behind me and I felt his clever fingers in my hair, gently removing a pin. Ohhhh. That felt better.

"Mary Alice is gone, Babe." He tugged another one out. "And your Grandma is…occupied." He tilted his head to our left and I followed his gaze.

Oh, so she was. The guy looked like he still had his own hair, too. Go Grandma. I didn't say anything, but I bent my head slightly so Ranger could reach behind the monstrosity better.

He deftly removed all of the pins that held the thing and its battery pack and lifted the weight off my head, setting it gently on the floor. "You'll want to save that." I could hear amusement in his tone, but he didn't laugh.

I tried to turn then, but he held me firmly, facing forward as he began to free my curls, one by one, his fingers massaging where the pins had jabbed. Soothing over all the poked places, he didn't stop until my hair fell loosely around my shoulders and the relaxing movements of his hands chased away the last remnants of my hurt pride.

He finished with a kiss placed lightly on the top of my head. "Better?"

"Mmmm, better." I leaned back into him.

"I like your hair down." He wrapped one of my curls around his finger.

I glanced up and caught him eyeing my legs.

"Nice boots," he said.

I lifted one foot and turned my ankle back and forth, showing off the boot. "You like them?"

"Yeah," he said softly, breath tickling my ear.

I couldn't help shivering.

Now I definitely heard a grin, "Cold, Babe?"

"No."

"Dance?"

"No." I frowned. "I drank too much too fast and these heels are high even for a Jersey girl." They were. Lula had called them model killers. Those sky-high babies that have been the cause of many a runway accident. I didn't want to add to the night's entertainment by tottering and tripping all over the place.

"Won't let you fall, Babe." His arms wrapped around my waist.

"This is good." I sighed in contentment.

"Actually--" I said, after a few minutes, "I'm a little tired."

"All that pumpkin judging?"

"Yeah." Among other things. Joe's hyena imitation came to mind.

He nudged me upright. "Want a ride home, Babe?"

I nodded and he curled an arm around my shoulders.

"Oh wait!" I stopped him. "Could you?"

He reached down and grabbed my custom-made space tiara, not even flinching at the glitter that was adhering itself to his fingers and clothing.

"Oh, the glitter…I'm sorry." I brushed at his suit futilely.

His dark eyes were warm and amused. "Not a problem, Babe."

"It gets everywhere. Stupid glitter." I think I was adding to the problem, spreading it around and making it stick better.

"Everywhere?" His eyes swept over me.

I smiled. "Everywhere."

"Need any help with that?" he asked, voice low.

I stopped brushing and stared at him.

He waited.

"Probably…yes. I could… yeah." I said lamely.

He smiled and guided me out of the ballroom.

I owe my Grandma some viewings, I think. And Mary Alice some pony rides. Ranger's arms tightened around me as I stirred, holding me in my current position. I kissed his chin, brushing my lips against his morning stubble, then let my head rest on his shoulder again. The glitter was Mary Alice's idea. Heck with the pony rides. Probably, I owed her a horse.


End file.
